


Careless Whisper

by lasersheith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: April Fool's Day, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, matt/n7 on the side, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 05:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18309275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/pseuds/lasersheith
Summary: Shiro is used to Matt's terrible April Fool's day plans, but this time he might not mind so much... eventually.Shiro’s eyes softened as they met Keith’s, and the corners of his lips tugged upward. The hopelessly enamored expression seemed to take years of stress off of Shiro’s face, making him look his age instead of the wizened battle commander he’d been forced to become. Matt tossed a glance in Keith’s direction and found the same aura of peaceful contentedness radiating from his shyly returned smile. It was rare to see so much respect and adoration between two people who remained hopelessly clueless that their affections were returned.Matt licked his lips and blew hard into the mouthpiece.The saxophone let out a horrifying squeal before Matt managed to coax it into the sweet melody he sought. His fingers danced along the body, pressing the keys to a sultry rhythm. Matt swayed, feeling the music in his soul as he played. The past three months of careful practice had resulted in a profound talent matched only by the most prestigious of middle school marching bands.





	Careless Whisper

The marketplace was chilly, colder than the area surrounding the Garrison got when Matt was a child. It had also been a small town back then, with actual buildings, instead of a loose congregation of tents and shanties hastily erected after the destruction of most of the planet by the Fire of Purification. Most of the rebuilding efforts were well on their way, but this little square remained a disjointed, lively mess.

Pidge was having a field day. It was hard for even Matt’s much longer legs to keep up with the way she flitted back and forth between vendors, eyes gleaming in the frost-bitten air. Thankfully N7 could keep track of her small form as it disappeared behind crooked stalls and the large groups of people milling about. Matt still anxiously scoured the crowd looking for a shock of strawberry blonde out of habit.

A tug on his hand drew his head to the side, meeting the shining metal of N7’s faceplate. She held the hand not laced with his up to where her mouth would have been, smallest finger and thumb extended towards either side of her head in a smile. He returned the gesture and followed the craning of her neck with his eyes toward a small tent.

“She’s inside yelling at someone,” N7 explained as Matt raised an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps we should go provide assistance.”

Matt nodded grimly, Pidge had a tendency to get a little carried away out here. “Lead the way, Sev.”

It was only a little warmer inside the tent than it had been out in the cold, but the thin fabric at least stopped the worst of the wind. Pidge was leaning over the makeshift counter, practically growling in the face of the stocky alien shopkeeper, waving a sleeved vinyl disc over her head. Matt couldn’t quite tell what album it was from that distance, but he recognized the band as his mother’s favorite. They were arguing about the price, some ludicrous amount that Matt knew Pidge could afford easily.

N7 strode calmly to Pidge’s side and carefully plucked the record from her waving hand, studying the contents. Pidge was hardly fazed, continuing on her rant about the absurd cost while the shopkeeper assured her it was a near one-of-a-kind mint edition. Matt rolled his eyes; he decided to let Pidge have her fun, she was cooped up in the lab too much these days and Christmas Shopping had been a thinly veiled excuse to get her out and about.

The rest of the tent was full of recorded music in various formats from across the galaxy, reams of sheet music, and a rickety shelf full of instruments that had seen better days. Or at least, Matt supposed they’d seen better days, despite his extensive time with the rebels, he hardly recognized any of the alien contraptions. He dug through them anyway, just passing the time until Pidge was satisfied with the price.

At the very back of the shelf, under several other horns of unclear functionality, Matt saw a golden, gleaming object that proved to him that there was, in fact, some all-knowing and divine cosmic being, and that being smiled on him specifically. He reached out a tentative hand, letting the leather of his glove slide down the slightly dented chassis in awe. It was perfect.

Matt grabbed it, bounding back to the front of the shop as quickly as he could manage. The shop’s only other patron glared at him as he barreled past, nearly shoving him over. Pidge and the shopkeeper halted their argument, turning towards Matt’s beaming face in confusion as he set the instrument on the counter.

“We’ll take the album and this beauty,” Matt declared, pulling out his datapad and preparing the credit transfer. “How much?”

Pidge’s jaw dropped. “Matt! What are you doing? I almost had him down to something reasonable!” She turned to glare at the shopkeeper, who was happily punching numbers into the digital till on the side of the counter. “Do you even know how to play that?”

Matt handed the pad over, his grin never faltering. “No, but I have 97 days to learn.”

* * *

Precisely 97 days later, Matt held a saxophone in his lap as Shiro attempted to brief the science team on the MFE squad’s progress with their new upgrades. The picture of perfect attentiveness, Matt followed the red dot of Shiro’s laser pointer as he went through all of the data they’d gathered in last week’s live testing, occasionally jotting down notes on his datapad for tweaks and future upgrades. Shiro kept eyeing the instrument suspiciously, his posture coiled and ready for battle.

The hour long meeting was quickly drawing to a close, and while the room’s other occupants had long since given up on their questioning looks in Matt’s direction, Shiro remained vigilant and on edge. Matt smiled at him innocently as he announced the end of the meeting and thanked everyone for their hard work. It came out a little strained and Shiro’s eyes never left Matt for long.

All of the other scientists and engineers began to funnel out of the briefing room as the next meeting’s participants arrived. Matt scanned the crowd for the unruly mop of black hair he’d been waiting all morning for and grinned as he looked up at Shiro. It almost seemed a shame, really, to ruin such a beautiful sight.

Shiro’s eyes softened as they met Keith’s, and the corners of his lips tugged upward. The hopelessly enamored expression seemed to take years of stress off of Shiro’s face, making him look his age instead of the wizened battle commander he’d been forced to become. Matt tossed a glance in Keith’s direction and found the same aura of peaceful contentedness radiating from his shyly returned smile. It was rare to see so much respect and adoration between two people who remained hopelessly clueless that their affections were returned.

Matt licked his lips and blew hard into the mouthpiece.

The saxophone let out a horrifying squeal before Matt managed to coax it into the sweet melody he sought. His fingers danced along the body, pressing the keys to a sultry rhythm. Matt swayed, feeling the music in his soul as he played. The past three months of careful practice had resulted in a profound talent matched only by the most prestigious of middle school marching bands.  

Shiro turned to him, soft fondness replaced with unbridled rage. The fires of damnation burned behind his normally gentle eyes. Matt stopped the song mid-note and twisted out of the way of Shiro’s prosthetic, grunting as it hit him in the side in an attempt to grab the saxophone.

“Happy April Fool’s day, dweebs!” Matt cried as he jumped over a chair and skittered out of the room. He risked another glance over his shoulder, the sight of Keith’s utter confusion and Shiro’s smoldering anger fueling him on towards the next phase of his plan.

* * *

Phase Two of Matt’s plan was remarkably similar to Phase One, only with a much more vast audience. N7 had done her part brilliantly, keeping Keith back in the hangar with questions about his hoverbike. She had a knack for scheming that never failed to bring a smile to Matt’s face, even as he struggled to fill a commissary tray while a saxophone was hanging around his neck.

He followed Shiro through the lines, making sure to leave plenty of space between them so as not to alert Shiro that he was being followed. Matt piled a few of the more edible-looking dishes onto his tray while he meandered, biding his time and scoping out the best location to wait until Keith arrived.

Shiro chose the small circular table he nearly always did, and Matt took the longest route possible around the cafeteria to get to his chosen perch a few tables down. Thankfully Shiro’s head was buried in his datapad and he didn’t seem to have any clue that Matt was lying in wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. His plan was coming together perfectly.

He’d managed to scarf down half a sandwich before his datapad buzzed with N7’s alert that they were headed toward the commissary. Matt grinned as he sent her an enthusiastic acknowledgement; it was almost show time.

Standing and wiping the remnants of crumbs from his mouth with his napkin, Matt went through his warm up routine. He cracked his knuckles and took a long swig of water before clearing his throat a few times and licking his lips. The sheet music was already open on his pad and he pressed the keys on the saxophone as though he were playing, heart starting to beat faster in excitement.

Keith’s familiar form rounded the corner with his tray and Matt couldn’t help the soft coo that escaped his lips as Keith’s eyes lit up when they found Shiro. Shiro’s back was turned toward him, so he hadn’t seen Keith approaching, but all of the tension dropped from his shoulders as Keith sat his tray down at the spot across from him. Matt let them have a moment of quiet conversation before stepping away from the table, his chair screeching against the floor tiles.

A few heads turned at the noise, but Shiro and Keith stayed engrossed in one another, oblivious to anything else in the cafeteria. That suited Matt perfectly as he strolled up to the table directly next to them and hopped up onto it. The cadets seated there shouted in surprise, but Matt hardly paid them any mind as he blew into the mouthpiece.  

As usual, his first few notes were rough, but soon he’d teased the sensuous refrain from the glistening brass, finally drawing Shiro and Keith’s eyes (as well as most of the rest of the cafeteria). He rocked and swayed with the song, doing his best to aim the bell towards their table as he played. The cadets abandoned the table, shuffling back before their laps were covered in the trays of food Matt kicked as he danced along to the music.

“Why is he doing this!?” Keith shouted to Shiro over the noise.

Matt tried to keep his smile from ruining his seal on the reed, but the next few notes squealed in protest.

Shiro glowered at him and stood up. “Because he thinks he’s funny!” He yelled back to Keith as he stalked over to Matt’s impromptu stage.

Before Matt had a chance to enact the _escaping unharmed_ stage of Phase Two, Shiro jammed his fist into the bell of the saxophone and ripped it out of Matt’s grasp. The entire cafeteria stood in stunned silence as the massive prosthetic tore through the metal before returning to Shiro’s side.

Matt was stunned as he blinked down at the remains of his beautiful instrument, gasping in surprise as Shiro grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him off of the table. “Sorry about that everyone, please enjoy the rest of your meal!” He said with an awkward laugh, pulling Matt in closer to his chest.

The sounds of a normal day in the commissary returned around them as Shiro glared down into Matt’s eyes. “Really, Matt?” He hissed, teeth clenched and voice dangerously low.

Putting on his best sheepish grin, Matt tried to shrug even though only his tiptoes were still on the floor. “April… fool’s?” Matt chuckled uncomfortably, gripping at Shiro’s wrist. It didn’t budge.

“Since when do you even play the saxophone?” Shiro’s face was redder than Matt had ever seen it, and he’d been stationed on the Atlas for weeks with Slav. It was time for his Phase Two contingency plan… if he could just reach his datapad without Shiro noticing…

Keith’s hand landed on Shiro’s shoulder and Matt felt his grip loosen enough for his heels to hit the floor. “Lame jokes aren’t grounds for a public ass-beating. You taught me that, captain,” Keith murmured with a wry smile.

Shiro chuckled and his hand dropped back to his side. “I guess I did.”

Shiro’s eyes sparkled in the horrible fluorescent lighting as he gave Keith a soft, fond smile and Matt had to suppress a gag. Someday they’d appreciate his hilarious pranking prowess both for its artistic merits and for being the catalyst of both of them getting their heads out of their own asses enough to see they’d rather be in each other’s.  

“Why a saxophone, by the way?” Keith asked, turning to Matt. “A flute or something would have been easier to keep Shiro from breaking. Coulda stuffed it in your jacket or something.”

Matt’s jaw dropped. How did Keith not know _Careless Whisper?_ Everyone knows _Careless Whisper._ This had serious implications for Phase Three. “Keith, it’s _Careless Whisper!”_ Matt protested, tossing his arms out to the side.

Keith just stared at him, raising an eyebrow. “Nice song, I guess,” he shrugged. “Is it from something? Or just a song?”

Shiro interrupted before Matt could explain how it was universally lauded as the sexiest song of all time. “I hate that song,” Shiro blurted, pushing Matt towards the door. “And Matt knows how much I hate it, that’s why he’s doing all of this. Because he’s a jerk. A jerk who is leaving. Good bye, Matt.”

Shiro shoved him through the cafeteria door and pulled it closed behind him, sliding the lock into place. A pair of confused officers stopped and stared at them, before one gestured to the now-locked door. Matt couldn’t hear what Shiro said to them, but his face turned a brilliant red of embarrassment and the officers turned around toward the door on the far side of the room.

Matt took advantage of Shiro’s distraction as he watched them leave and ducked behind the wall, out of sight of the door. He filled N7 in on the details of Phase Two and the unfortunate, but not unexpected, destruction of his primary weapon. Phase Three would occur as scheduled, though, he just had to hope it would still work.

* * *

At 1630, Shiro and Keith were in Simulator 3 just as Matt knew they would be. They always piled into Simulator 3 for “training” after their 1500 meeting was over and stayed for hours, running old sims and racing and talking. Matt had been trying to convince Shiro it was actually very reminiscent of a weekly date and tried to get him to treat it as such, but as usual, Matt’s amazing advice fell on deaf ears.

Well, they might be deaf by the time Matt was through with them if Phase Three didn’t go as planned, but he was reasonably sure it would be fine. Probably. Regardless, they were already in the simulator and N7 had already secured the lock from the outside, so Matt didn’t have much of an option anyway.

From their Command Center in the commandeered observation deck, Matt patched them into the comms on Simulator 3. Laughter echoed off of the walls and two screens projected onto the display; One with Shiro’s progress in their sim and one with Keith’s.

They were doing one of the older sims, one that Matt very clearly remembered taking half a semester to barely pass. Of course they’d be casually flying through it for fun. He scoffed as he turned to N7. “Ready, Sev?”

She flashed him their sign for a smile and nodded, the fingers of her other hand flying across the keyboard as Matt slid a transfer chip into the slot under the display. The beautiful, smooth sounds of a saxophone cut in over the teasing from Simulator 3 as Keith and Shiro halted their race.

“God damn it, Matt,” he heard Shiro groan.

Matt held back his snicker as he watched Shiro trudge to the door on the live feed.

Shiro thumped his forehead against the door. “He put it in emergency lockdown. We’re stuck here until he gives the all clear.” He didn’t bother turning towards Keith and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Matt grinned as he watched Keith stand from his seat and put a comforting hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“Could just ignore it and get back to the race.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed and he mouthed the word “or” a half second before Keith said it. He decided that must be what being a Jedi felt like.

Shiro’s head turned to Keith as he hesitated before finishing his suggestion. “I know you hate it, but it’s a nice song.” His cheeks dusted with a faint blush. “We could… dance. If you wanted to.”

Matt leapt up into the air and pumped his fists wildly. N7 clapped politely at his side as they watched the situation unfold.

“Oh, uh,” Shiro stammered, straightening up away from the door.

“Oh come on,” Matt grumbled, eyes burning into the screen again, minor victory forgotten. “Do _not_ screw this up.” Leave it to Shiro to waste this golden opportunity.

“Yeah, if you want,” Shiro finally said, voice so soft Matt almost couldn’t hear it over the music. “You’ll have to lead though, I’m not much of a dancer.”

Keith’s shy smile widened and he took a step closer to Shiro, taking his hands and arranging them to rest on Keith’s hip and shoulder before placing his own. “Not much to it, just sway to the music.”

Matt clapped a hand to his chest and set the song to repeat twice before sending the command to unlock the door. He waited a few seconds to make sure neither of them heard the clicking of the electronic lock or noticed the red _emergency lockdown_ light flickering off. When it was obvious they were lost in each other’s eyes, moving like a gentle breeze to the melody, Matt clicked the monitor off and leaned back in his chair.

His boots thumped up onto the desk and he pressed his hand to his mouth, thumb and little finger extended with the others curled against his lips. “Good work, Sev. You’re a natural.”

Her faceplate lit up and she returned his smile, rising from her chair and holding out a hand for him. Matt took it and raised an eyebrow as she pulled him close and arranged their hands like Keith had done for Shiro. He grinned at her and began to sway as _Careless Whisper_ filtered out through her speakers.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me [on twitter!](www.twitter.com/lasersheith)


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